My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines
Chapter 41- Sugar

Chapter 41: Chapter 41- Sugar

"I... mean, sending her to Saint Regalia Hospital might not be a good choice after all," Darithi said, trailing behind him, referring to the information she had given Ytrisia when she’d called to ask about the villain who manipulated the child into attacking the Poggo Channel.

And then she understood exactly what her master had intended by giving Ytrisia that false information and sending her into a situation where, due to confusion and misunderstanding, she might end up clashing with the group of villains hired for the contract killing of Alvian—the dean of the hospital.

"Nah, the branch of the villain syndicate I gave the contract to only had two A-rank villains. They probably wouldn’t act against an ordinary human, so it’d most likely be the lower ones. And Volta is strong enough to handle them," Cruxius replied as he finally turned towards the large wooden doors, beside which stood the Blac family bodyguards, who gave him a bow before the door slid open, revealing hundreds of reporters, their cameras flashing one after another.

"...I see," Darithi murmured, taken aback once again as she recalled how, at the hospital, he had called someone. At the time, she hadn’t grasped the severity of the situation—only feeling confused as to how he had access to contacts among supervillains.

But after hearing him speak about his desire to walk the path of a supervillain—the very moment he gave those weapons to that child—she knew that things would never be the same again.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the cascade of flashlights and camera shutters in the hall, like a rising tide of electricity.

The crowd of journalists and representatives stood hushed, momentarily stunned by the arrival of two figures.

Cruxius glanced around, spotting dozens of media channels and reporters swarming from all directions—clearly showing how important his presence was as the heir of the Blac family.

He took his place at the center podium, surrounded by microphones that now felt as insignificant as insects before a lion.

The silence broke.

"Mr. Cruxius! Is it true that an A-rank superhero tried to assassinate you during your stay in Spain?!"

"Can you confirm if it was Ryken—the same hero rumored to have a controversial record of such actions?"

"Did the Hero Association know about the attack beforehand? Was it sanctioned?!"

Cruxius let the whirlwind stir for a moment longer—this was the perfect time to poke the Hero Association, to ignite a spark he could later fan into an advantage by using Ryken’s attack as leverage.

"Yes," he said, smirking as he adjusted the mic. He added, "It’s true. An A-rank superhero, Ryken, assaulted me with lethal intent. On foreign soil. Without authorization. In broad moonlight."

Gasps fluttered through the hall like dry leaves caught in the wind.

Naturally, everyone was already aware—but now they had the official statement from the heir of the Blac family, reigniting a matter that was close to being buried.

Cruxius leaned in slightly, his gaze slicing through the sea of eyes. "But more than that, I believe we’ve reached a dangerous threshold."

His tone didn’t drop in volume—but in weight.

’...Oh, my Sugar is also here’, Cruxius thought, scanning the hall, mostly filled with reporters. His eyes paused on a figure seated among them, gazing at him with deep ruby eyes.

But he quickly averted his gaze. She wouldn’t remember him—or care—either way, he had used her as a stepping stone to ruin the Hero Association in a past life before killing her.

So, putting her aside for now, he focused on the present and revealed his plan to unleash his next move against the superheroes.

"I would suggest," he said slowly, deliberately, "that the Hero Association install mandatory trackers on every ranked superhero."

!?

A sharp intake of breath rippled through the hall. The silence was no longer respectful—it was terrified.

Terror born from the fact that no one dared to openly challenge superheroes, given their inhuman strength—even if someone claimed their voice didn’t matter. But that suggestion—was to treat superheroes like criminals.

"So we can actually keep an eye on them. Monitor their actions. Their whereabouts. Their motives." Cruxius’s jaw tightened faintly. "Because who knows how many innocent people die daily, slaughtered in the name of ’collateral damage’? Just the thought that I, protected by all the world’s security, could be harmed—makes me wonder what atrocities they commit unchecked every day."

And then, silence. Not the hollow kind—but the heavy kind. The kind that grips your chest like iron.

Cruxius understood why. His gaze locked on the camera, fully aware that the situation for his father was about to become critical. Even though their family was among the richest, the organization he was targeting had control over the superheroes themselves.

Yet the critical difference was that, unlike supervillains, superheroes were bound by laws, discipline, and a code of conduct—that’s what once made them ’heroes.’

So the Hero Association couldn’t just declare war. They would formally respond—but behind the scenes, they might send assassins to silence him. Not that it mattered. He was already planning to escalate this situation to the point that, if he were to die, fingers would be pointed straight at the Hero Association.

Not that he intended to die either.

All eyes turned to Sugar, the spokesperson for the Association, seated just a few feet away.

But Sugar wasn’t there for the press conference. She simply kept staring at Cruxius, her ruby eyes flickering with anger, hatred, confusion, and betrayal—the look of someone who couldn’t even take revenge for being betrayed.

There was something else behind her silence. Given her rank as an S-rank hero, her presence should’ve commanded the center of attention. But not today.

And that was proven by the media’s questions directed toward Cruxius—

"Sir, are you suggesting the Association is negligent—?"

"Do you have proof of more such deaths, Mr. Cruxius?"

"Will the Blac family pursue legal action?!"

"Aren’t these statements dangerously inflammatory?!"

"Are you speaking as an heir—or as something more?!"

Cruxius raised a brow, amused at how quickly the storm returned—this time more volatile than before.

But it wasn’t panic.

It was going to be headlines.

Because this wasn’t some anonymous whistleblower.

This was Cruxius Blac.

And when an heir speaks—entire systems are forced to listen.

No matter the world—in the end, money always remains supreme.

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